


Beauty and the Beastie

by HedaRoot



Category: Maleficent (Disney Movies)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Aurora is a healthy and curious growing girl with no inhibitions from society, F/F, Masturbation, but she's still a horny teenager, she's basically a fae all but in blood
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-21
Updated: 2019-10-21
Packaged: 2020-12-27 22:36:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21126374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HedaRoot/pseuds/HedaRoot
Summary: After starting to spend some time amongst humans and experimenting their civilization and strange customs, Aurora realizes that both the Beauty and the Beast might not be who everyone thinks they are.What a wood girl raised by faeries and a crow in a magical place could possibly learn from Medieval society ?





	Beauty and the Beastie

**Author's Note:**

> This is a one shot post-Maleficent the first i wrote years ago on FF.net that i'm moving here. the following stories i'm writing is unfortunately written in french as LegendDreamer, my beta helped translate this one a few years ago, but we're not in contact anymore. If you're interested in translating from french to english with me, send me a message ! i'm a slow poke though.

The most difficult thing, after having spent the past sixteen years of her life in a cottage deep in the woods, was learning the habits and customs of the outside world. 

Granted, her aunties had handled her education rather well for three immature, foolish and egotistical old faeries. Maleficent's words, not hers. No, the the hardest thing of all was discovering that these forms of decorum and etiquette were even more rigid when one was a member of the nobility. To say nothing of the royal family.

Aurora learned that she could not interrupt her bothersome duties to wander the castle in search of adventure, that she had to use no less than six different forks during castle meals – how was she supposed to know, Aunt Thistlewit used them for curling her hair – but most of all, she was taught the worst thing that the human world could offer her. Catholic Church morality. 

She didn't really know much about religion itself, just of old men in robes worshiping a naked peasant nailed to a wall, one who strangely resembled Diaval with a beard. This religion did place a lot of value on introspection and propriety, though, and when she tried to apply that to herself, Aurora realized that she was far from being as pure and innocent as most people believed her to be.

Their dear blessed princess, lost in carnal fantasies ? But how could she have known that masturbation was a sin? She hadn't even known the word for before attending church.

Initially, she had assumed that it meant some barbaric practice of war, but Diaval had literally dropped from his branch when she brought up that notion, and she'd had to beg the raven not to repeat the conversation to Maleficent. Only the promise of disproportionate punishment upon his humble and innocent person by an irrationally furious Maleficent truly convinced him to keep his silence. The faery was sensitive about any subject related, however slightly, to her young curious charge.

To this day, Aurora was surprised that the faery hadn't found out, one way or another. She had the annoying tendency to notice even the tiniest of occurrences in the Moors. Her shadow following her every moves and her uncanny ability to just know. But it wasn't as if she could talk about it with her aunties, that would be … strangely wrong she felt, even with her cultural gaps. It was the sort of thing that should never happen, for the good of everyone. And Maleficent would raise her eyes to the heavens at just about everything concerning human culture. This sort of discussion was therefore, obviously, out of the question.

And Aurora cherished those rare conversations with her godmother far too much to waste them on a subject like religion, or propriety or the human society. That was what had reinforced her decision to remain permanently in the Moors, whenever her duties as queen would allow it. Maleficent had smiled like a cat that had caught the canary when Aurora had informed her. No amount of wailing or whining, however, prevented the faery from lazily disappearing without any form of answer, as was her habit, leaving Aurora panting and grumbling in her wake, her laughter teasing the young woman's already frail spirit.

The blonde in question jerked in place before recollecting her thoughts, realizing that she had arrived to her destination. 

She thanked the flying seahorse before slipping between the twisting trees that lead to the border between the Moors and the human realm.

The Moors were truly her favorite place in the world, but there was an advantage to being in the human world. And avoiding Maleficent during her daily ritual was indispensable. There wasn't a person in the world whom she loved more than her "godmother", and there, indeed, was the problem. Coming here allowed her to indulge in temptations that the humans world did not tolerate.

And the idea that the faery could be watching her at that time... 

The forest had taken on a sober look, almost morose, and Aurora felt her shoulders slowly unwinding from their concerns, could almost taste the promised relaxation. Several paces away, there was a lake, one which had nothing like the splendor of the lakes of the Moors. It was bland, topped by a single, thin waterfall. 

The place was, however, deserted, bringing forth a sigh of joy from the girl. She undid the bow that her aunties had so carefully tied that same morning, letting her long golden hair cascade down her back, all the way to her waist.

Maleficent had remarked that it was getting too long, her gaze scouring the teenager's body with an intensity that had brought a blush to Aurora's cheeks.

She unbuttoned her simple tunic, pulling it over her hips – which were getting more defined by the month, she noted with pride – before managing to push it down to her feet. She wiggled her toes in the cool grass, a mischievous smile upon her lips.  
She shook her blond mane from her eyes and, finding herself fully naked at last, carefully advanced into the water. The trees formed a circle around the lake, allowing the light of the sun to pierce the surface of the water and giving it a deliciously cool temperature. With a chuckle, Aurora made her way to the waterfall, cupping her hands to catch the water and thoroughly splashing her face.

From the corner of her eye, she watched the surrounding trees. There wasn't an animal in sight, and certainly no specififc crow on the horizon, but she thought it best to stay alert, despite the tension in the pit of her stomach that was calling for her attention.  
Wiping away the water flowing over her eyes and nose, she ran her wet hands through her hair, pushing it back, before letting them slip down her neck, ending their path on her chest. Her slender fingers closed around her breasts; still adolescent, but growing by the day. 

Presently sure that if Maleficent or Diaval had come by the idea to watch her, they would have respectfully retreated upon realizing the intimacy of the young girl's moment, she let her fingers play along her ribs. She hummed a tune that she had once heard Maleficent singing during her childhood, a tune which let her know that even though she could not see her, her guardian wasn't far away, protecting the forest and its inhabitants from every intrusion.  
She sighed in contentment. The air was warm, the sunlight delicately licked her milky skin and the water was soothingly cool to her flesh. She tipped back her head, letting her fingers trail dangerously low on the curve of her hips.  
She did not see the wrong in her actions. Perhaps it was because it simply wasn't in her to commit even the tiniest evil, but she knew that no matter what humans might say, there was no harm in drawing pleasure from one's own body.  
Even she knew that, and as Maleficent said, she was sometimes far from being a bright light. "What are you up to, my curious little beastie..." She exhaled loudly at that thought, and she splayed her hand across her lower belly.  
On the other hand, there was a certain guilt at feeling such desire for... For whom, really? She didn't know much about family. She had believed herself to be an orphan all her life, and having lived with nobody but her aunties, the concept of family was incredibly blurry to her.

What could a parent, a father, a mother bring her that her aunts did not give her already? What joy, what complicity, what protection could she share with a brother or sister that she did not already share with Diaval? What... What connection, what desire could she feel for a beau, a suitor, what flame of pleasure and the unknown could be lit by a stranger now... Now that the feelings that Maleficent had awakened for the first time in her heart and body left her breathless, her chest ready to split in two while lying in bed deep at night, her fingers searching between her thighs, hidden in the darkness of her chambers, terrified by the idea of seeing the emerald eyes of her godmother outside the window, terrified and exhilarated at the idea of meeting that gaze? Was it truly wrong? Maleficent wasn't truly a parent, not a blood relative, and even if she were... Could it truly be sinful? How could one gaze upon the faery, and tell her to her face that it was disgraceful to desire her?  
Aurora, during her frequent visits to the castle, had had the pleasure of meeting many humans, and it had done nothing but fan the sacred flame she bore in her heart for her godmother. She was so beautiful. Aurora could not comprehend how some commoners, sitting in the corner of some dingy tavern, could offhandedly describe her as a repulsive creature in between two mugs of frothy brew. She understood even less how her own beauty was praised as much as it was. How could you appreciate her beauty and at the same time disparage Maleficent's? Beside the faery, it was she who was the beast.

All through her childhood, her aunties had sung her praises, on the beauty of her hair, her face, her delicate hands, her graceful body. The compliments had done nothing but increase when she had come to the castle. Phillip in particular lost himself in compliments, and even though she was very fond of the young man who had become such a dear friend, his persistent advances and his adoration of everyone even remotely female were too insistent not to arouse her suspicion. The boy seemed to want to convince himself of his words more than the young women he courted. But that sort of discussion seemed to upset the prince, and Aurora preferred to leave Phillip to struggle with his own secrets, just as she struggled with hers.  
But Maleficent... She caressed the surface of the water with her palm and brought her wet fingers up to her breast, tracing a circle around the tip of pink flesh. 

Maleficent was as beautiful to her eyes as the Christian God was to the eyes of men. Not just the earthly beauty of simple attractive features. A transcendent beauty, which left no room for doubt as to how heavenly and dangerous this creature was. Her full and scarlet lips, which twisted themselves into mocking, predatory smiles or into furious grimaces paired with deep, throaty growls. Aurora ran a finger across her lips, pressing against them until she pierced their resistance and encountered her wet tongue.  
Her fine, straight nose, topped by a bump, making it appear strangely normal, strangely human. Her immense prismatic eyes of gold-flecked emerald, more expressive than any word could be. Colored by pain, by anger, and by a compassion which Aurora dreamed of coming to know. She pinched the tip of her breast with her wet fingers, feeling the point harden and and the flesh tighten in a pleasant ache. The ball of heat in the pit of her stomach became more insistent, descending slowly and inexorably towards the seat of her desire. 

Her cheekbones, sharp as that acid tongue, whispering words designed to hurt, to repel the unknown threats, to keep them far from that vulnerable heart. Her long, twisted horns, so menacing yet so regal. Aurora could not tell if it was abnormal, but the sight of those horns was, in her humble opinion, strangely erotic. 

How many times had she had to restrain a wandering hand from sneaking up to the faery's head, desperate for a touch of those unique, fantastical growths? Sometimes she remembered a passage from her childhood, a memory like a dream, flashing behind her eyelids. Maleficent was holding her by the hips, her delicate yet strong hands wrapped around her child's body. She remembered bringing her hands up to those coveted objects, fingers innocent of every sign of time caressing the twisting horns, feeling the burning gaze of the faery upon her face, her expression unreadable. 

Today, she did not have the excuse of age, and nothing that came to mind could give her a plausible reason to touch those horns without receiving a sharp rebuff from the reserved faery. A moan escaped her throat almost involuntarily. She silenced the end of it, opening her mouth to soundlessly release the air held captive within her lungs. At the same time, her slender, slightly inexperienced fingers slipped between the lips of her swollen sex, two fingers visiting the different wetness of her flesh, pinching the pink bud hidden within. She might not have known much regarding desire besides the romance books her aunties left her, but after nights of clumsy exploration, it was easy to find the sources of pleasure on her body. 

She had always been a happy, lively girl, and seeking pleasure in all its forms came to her with disconcerting ease. 

Great wings. Maleficent had great, dark wings. Aurora adored them. And Maleficent adored them as well. Sometimes, perhaps more than she would like, the young lady couldn't help but feel jealous. But she had never seen Maleficent so... vulnerable and happy than when she was flying. Helping the faery regain her wings had revealed a new facet of her godmother to her, one which made her heart drum dangerously against its prison of bone.

She released her clitoris to explore more deeply, moaning in pleasure and smiling when the tip of her finger disappeared, sinking into her intimacy without ever piercing the barrier. It felt wrong to accede this by her own hand. Her chest rose and fell with the rhythm of her jerky, panting breathing. Her free hand clutched her adolescent breast like a claw, gripping the flesh in an embrace that was as pleasurable as it was painful. 

The faery's wings were sensitive. She had discovered that by accident the first time, and through after that. Unlike with the horns, she had succumbed to her devouring curiosity and had caressed the long feathers with the tips of her fingers, delicately, so as not to startle the faery into a defensive reaction. Maleficent had frozen, not speaking a word. She had refused to face her, but she had turned her face in her direction, and Aurora could see that familiar gleam in the suddenly bright eyes of her godmother, the one she had when words failed her and she relied on her look to make her point. Unfortunately, the faery had seemed too lost in her own emotions to convey a clear message to the blonde, and the young woman had met her gaze, stroking the curvature of the wing with her hand. Finally, Maleficent had barked a short little laugh, clacked her tongue and admonished her with a simple "Naughty little beastie" before continuing along her way along the Moors. She had ignored Aurora and her persistent gaze for the remainder of the journey, Diaval cawing loudly in the faery's ear.

Another time, by complete inadvertence and clumsiness, Aurora had tripped on the root of an enormous oak, and grabbing at the faery's back with a squeal, she had closed her fingers firmly around the base of bone on her shoulder blades. Maleficent had started, making the two of them pitch over dangerously, before recovering. A short, hoarse moan still managed to escape her throat, and Aurora had frozen, lips parted, thighs rubbing hard against each other as if to crush the the pinching deep in her underbelly. 

This time, she had not tried her luck. She had stepped back quickly, unnecessarily smoothing her dress and apologizing profoundly, but refusing to forget the moan, or the tightly closed eyes, or those full, parted lips, that clenched jaw...  
Maleficent had contented herself with rising to her full height and explaining to her that her wings were sensitive, and that if she did not want to find her head in the mud of the swamp, she had better stop this little game. Aurora had wasted no time with trying to explain that it had been an accident this time, and instead, had smiled brightly and resumed walking, ignoring the faery's disapproving look. 

Feeling her legs tremble beneath her weight, even with the water supporting her, Aurora leaned against the rocky wall by the waterfall, breathing in loud, throaty gasps, one hand pressing forcefully against her sex, crushing her clitoris against her palm, the other hand tugging at a bruised nipple. She ventured a finger against her entrance and bit her lip, hesitant. She truly wanted it, but she didn't want her first time to be with her own hand. Usually, she would content herself with other stimulation, against her bed or underwater, hidden from indiscreet looks, but it seemed that today, that would not be sufficient. 

A part of herself felt foolish for hoping that, perhaps, Maleficent would catch her in the act one day, that she would mock her in her deep, resonant voice, making fun of her human baseness, and that she would join her in the lake, pressing Aurora between her body, slender and supple as a cat, and the rough stone of the wall of the waterfall. That she would play with her, refusing to give her what she wanted until she admitted to what she was doing, and whom she was thinking of, and breathlessly, Aurora would reveal her greatest secret. Maleficent, fixing her with her piercing, vulnerable look, would kiss her full on the mouth, devouring the girl, taking possession of her body, her hands clawing at her flesh in punishing caresses. She would admonish the naughty girl she was guarding, running her tongue over her neck, biting with dark possessiveness at the pulse at the base of her jaw with those fangs of hers. Desperately gripping the faery's shoulders, cheek crushed against that delicate collarbone, Aurora would leave deep marks of angry red on her skin, tattooing the bruised body with new souvenirs, and Maleficent would hiss a warning in her ear, seizing the girl's buttocks in both hands, claws digging into the firm, supple flesh, kneading it and drawing a groan from the blonde.

The faery would slip her temptress' hips between her charge's thighs, forcefully separating them and pinning the blonde against the rocky wall, making her tremble with the power of it. Aurora's cries would be engulfed by the faery's hungry lips as her tongue would take possession of the girl's mouth, before the blonde would greedily suck it, bringing forth a primal growl from Maleficent. Her face buried in Aurora's neck, she would take her again and again, until the blonde would beg for her to stop, passionately pulling at those long horns, or burying her hand in the wings that covered the two of them, protecting them from unwelcome eyes in their little corner of paradise. Panting like a puppy, Aurora would stroke her godmother's hair with a look of wonder. Maleficent would kiss her hands, her glittering gleaming eyes fixing her with a gaze both vulnerable and impenetrable, and she would surely ruin the moment by calling her beastie, as was her habit.

( Aurora could have felt annoyance at the recurring insult, but it was always said with such tenderness that nothing in the world would make her want her godmother to change the nickname. )

Aurora would pretend to feel insulted, and in order to apologize, Maleficent would press her mouth against the adolescent's chin and jaw in an amorous caress, her hands exploring the juvenile chest, her lips sliding slowly down her body, the point of her tongue painting abstract shapes on her abdomen, the edge of her teeth playing along the outline of her hips, smiling mischievously at the girl's pleas--

Aurora's eyes snapped wide open, tears forming in their corners, her jaw opened in a silent cry, her voice forgotten in her fantasy. Her chest lifted, her back arched, and she scrabbled at the wet wall, searching for something to support herself in her seemingly endless fall of pleasure. Finally, her shoulders released their tension and her fingers unfastened themselves from the rock, her nails bruised. Her chest was heaving, forcing her to slip down the wall and into the water, splashing her burning, sweaty face with delicious beads of coolness and releasing the hoarse groan that had been stuck in her throat. 

She remained silent for several long minutes, with only her panting breath and the irregular noise of the waterfall disturbing the apparent calm. She ran her hands through her hair, coaxing her heart, letting it slow its frenetic pace. She wiggled her fingers and toes to get rid of the last spasms, the vestige of an act of which she wasn't sure if it qualified as shameful and uncaring if it was. 

Tilting her head against the wall, eyes to the sky, smiling, curling up into the water and enjoying the post-orgasmic serenity. Her fantasies had perhaps passed every reasonable points by now, but to pretend to be worried about it was truly the last thing she wanted. 

Finally she laughed, eyes closed, and listened to the serenade of the woods, signaling wildlife's return to the waterside. 

Several trees away, a pair of emerald orbs watched the adolescent girl, lurking in the shadows. A hand was closed firmly around the beak of an imposing raven, facing it towards the ground. The animal struggled, and losing her patience and deciding they were sufficiently far away to escape being heard, the figure rose and flung the bird into the air, a green trail of smoke following its trajectory. 

In full flight, the bird changed into a man, who, not having foreseen the transformation, fell to the ground soundly, suppressing a shout of surprise.

"Mistress-" 

"We're leaving, Diaval." 

"It's a little late for that, don't you think?" the turnedman muttered, pushing his black hair back. 

Unfortunately, like she always did, Maleficent heard his remark and whirled around, her eyes flaring with a supernatural green glow. 

"If you don't want me to turn you permanently into a mutt and give you to Aurora for her seventeenth birthday, you will forget everything that happened today. And I mean everything." She regained her composure, pressing a hand against her chest. "There is no need for her to know any of this." 

Observing the jerky, mechanical gait of her wings, preparing to take off, the hoarseness of her voice and the way her eyes shifted every way, Diaval permitted himself a smile. Perk of being neither a troubled lonely fairy or a growing human and their strange dance around each others. Crows were much simpler in his opinion.

"Perhaps you're right," he admitted, but the tone of his voice gave his intention away. She had known her young servant for too long. She stopped midflight and fixed him with a menacing look that told him to abandon any attempt at discussion, two fingers raised in his direction. After several seconds, though, he decided that no matter what the punishment might be, it would be worth it. 

"It seems she's more Beastie than Beauty."


End file.
